


The Alpha Spirit

by coplins



Series: Packrunners [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Omega, Bittersweet, M/M, Omega Dean, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Past Character Death, Polyamory, Sad and Happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 16:16:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13275201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coplins/pseuds/coplins
Summary: Dean will never stop loving Cas no matter how many years pass since he died.





	The Alpha Spirit

**Author's Note:**

> **IMPORTANT!** Beta read by my awesome Beta [YouCantKeepMeDown](http://archiveofourown.org/users/YouCantKeepMeDown). (And Grammarly.) Any remaining mistakes are my own. I keep forgetting to mention that and it's not fair because my Beta readers mean so much to me and are crucial to my drive to write. Especially now because I'm at home and very sick. If you are an Archangel fan, please pay YouCantKeepMeDown a visit. :) 
> 
> Oh, and the FBI Agent mentioned is Nick Munroe, Dean's male siren in the episode Sex and Violence, season 4. Of course, here he's exactly what he appeared to be, not a monster of any kind. Oh, but since he's never specifically described more than 'blond', feel free to envision anyone that you'd like. :)
> 
> I've told you this 'verse was just for me to play around in, yes? That means it's fairly open for influences and that's why we have this chapter. A comment from [majesticduxk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticduxk/pseuds/majesticduxk) inspired me to write it. It's a bittersweet reminder that these boys can love each other endlessly and vastly, and still have vacancy lots in their hearts to fit in other people to love equally much. They're Packrunners, and see the Pack just as much a part of who they are as themselves. I got a bit teary-eyed writing it, but mostly I think it's beautiful. :')

* * *

Michael knotted him one more time before they parted and Dean can still feel him inside like a ghost of a knot. He hasn’t felt this good about an Alpha since Raphael and that was years ago. He might be ready to give up on Raphael as a lost cause. Reluctantly. Although, even a rich Alpha like Michael Williams can’t cater to two Omegas at the same time. That’s just a fact. He may be able to provide for them when they’re heavily pregnant or with a newborn kit, but there is no way in hell he can cater for two Omegas in Heat at the same time.

Sam’s not there when Dean gets home and he curses under his breath. He finds a note on the fridge. “ _I’m spending my Heat with an Alpha named Azazel. He owns Azazel’s Bar in the business district. He lives in an apartment above the bar. /Sam_ ”

“Good for you, Sammy,” Dean mutters. He’s in half a mind to go over there to introduce Sam to the scents of Michael and the Siberian, but opts out. It would be incredibly rude and selfish. For all he knows, Sam too could be falling in love. There is a risk that the two of them won’t end up in the same pack. Hell, knowing Sam, his little brother might even mate monogamously. (Gods forbid!) He hopes not. The thought makes him a bit anxious. It’s probably nothing to worry about anyway. A guy who owns his own bar in the business district sounds like a guy that can take good care of Sam during his Heat. Yeah, good for Sam. They can help each other out, but having a knot inside of you during your Heat _is_ the best option. 

Dean goes to bed. He can’t sleep. He’s too worked up, mind buzzing with excitement and happy thoughts. An hour after he gets home his Heat hits, triggered prematurely by tonight’s escapades. He gives up on sleep. There’s somebody he’s itching to share his excitement with anyway. He gets up, lights a candle and puts it on the desk. He fetches the salt shaker then takes a blank paper and a pen and sits down to write in the candlelight.

 

Dear Cas,

It’s been a while since I wrote you. I still miss you. You know I always will. I went on a date today. His name is Michael and I think you’d like him. I always think you’d like the guys I like because you always used to. It’s a no-brainer. But something happened that made me think of you. Remember when we used to sit on that bench by the town square and check out other Alphas? Discussing who would fit to join the pack? To join _us_?

I know part of it was your concern about me not having anyone to take care of me after you’d gone. You worried about only having one mate-bond would kill me too when you died. Not gonna lie. It almost did, and you know it. But it's not those concerns that made me think of you tonight, but rather the hungry gleam in your eyes when we sat there and checked Alphas out together. Do you remember that blond guy who turned out to be an FBI agent? When you leaned in and purred “you, me, and him, once or forever”? Do you remember that, because I sure do. It’s been the base of so many of my fantasies over the years. Fuck, we got so close. If he hadn’t gotten that phone call and had to leave… I think about it sometimes. How close we came to having a threesome. How close I got to get a second mate and how excited that made you.

Today was the first time I’ve been with two Alphas at once. Just a little BJ action with the second one, but _damn_. Michael was all for it, just like you would have been. He might be the first piece of the puzzle in our new pack, Cas, but I think you approve. I know, I know. I said that about Raphael too. But let’s face it. Chances are I ain’t gonna find him. Hell, I don’t even remember exactly what he smells like! But Michael, he’s a perfect fit, I think. I’m rubbing some of his scent here on the paper so you can smell him. ↘

 

Not bad, huh?

I’m really starting to believe your last words to me, Cas. At the time you said them, I didn’t, and you know that. But you’re right. Thinking back on that moment no longer hurts. Instead I marvel at your inner strength and your Faith. The disease might have destroyed your body but it could never break your spirit. Remembering it now… how we were curled up together face to face, you were so pale and thin and your scent riddled with pain. I remember how softly you were looking at me then, with endless affection and love. The soft smile on your lips. You were dying but you looked happy. You said to me: “It’s going to be alright, Dean. It’s going to be better than alright.” Then you closed your eyes and a few heartbeats later you exhaled your last breath and I died with you.

Heh. It’s funny because you know how some of the prejudices against us Packrunners are that we are more animals than men, that we do full shifts and howl at the moon? It’s bullshit, but the way dad went out in the yard and roared his heartbreak when you died, that’s how myths like that get started. Bobby and Sam’s mournful keening could be heard for miles for days but for me, everything inside just went quiet. Years, Cas. Everything was silent for years. The only thing reaching through that was dad, Sam, and even Bobby, marking me up, touching me, reminding me I was part of something bigger.

Sometimes I forget that they too have lost mates. Dad had Sammy strapped to his chest or back for the greater part of the first year, and I used to sleep curled up to him. I remember falling asleep with dad’s nose buried in my hair or neck, to the sound of him scenting me, and Sammy’s content baby purr (it’s more of a gurgle really) from where Sammy was sleeping on his chest. Back then I thought I was the one who needed comfort. Now I think that maybe Sammy and I are what saved _him_.

Anyway, what I wanted to say is - your last words to me. I believe them now. Anytime I’m scared, nervous, or doubt myself I tell myself “It’s going to be better than alright.” I draw courage from that and I’ve done it since I left dad’s house. But it’s finally starting to ring 100% true. I’ve got a good feeling about things.

You, me, and Sammy, I think it’s only a matter of time before we have a new pack to run with. I hope you’re as happy about it as I am, even if you only run with us as a part of our hearts.

Love you. Always.

Xoxo Your Dean.

 

Dean folds the letter into something vaguely envelope-shaped and pours some salt inside. Then he rolls the salted letter into a loose roll and holds it to the candle, watching the flame eat away at it. The public funeral pyre outside the city gets only one fistful of salt thrown at it every day, as if that’d be enough to guide spirits home. Both mom and Cas had been properly shrouded and salted before they were burned - on a high pyre like befitting warriors. Mom might have been the only one of them who had participated in the war, but Cas was a warrior too. Every inch of him. Dean always salts his letters to Cas before he burns them, thinking they will go to wherever Cas is, if he does.

Dean always feels calmer after writing a letter to Cas. He imagines the way Cas would share his excitement, offer dry or sarcastic remarks, ask questions, argue or give cheeky suggestions. Back after he left home but was still living in town as a Siderunner to dad’s pack, calling the Impala his home, he’d lie in the back seat and talk to Cas sometimes and it’d feel like Cas was there with him. But when it came to big things, like meeting a potential mate, Dean didn’t take any chances. Only a salted letter would do. He scrapes up the burned remains and throws them in the sink, blows out the candle and goes back to bed. This time he manages to fall asleep, his hole still feeling Michael’s knot inside and Cas’ content purr residing somewhere deep inside of him...

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to comment! :D


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